


Dreamswap Week

by ShandyCandy278



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dreamswap (Undertale), Anti-Void, Can I Hear?, Can you?, Character Death, DS Week, Dreamswap Week, Frenchmen, Haphephobia, Hate, Liberate, Love, Meditation, Meme Squad, Night Terrors, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attack, Positive!Nightmare, Pranks, Return, calm, chained, falling, prompts, reference to past trauma, scream, tp, violin, whisper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-23 08:02:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21316858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShandyCandy278/pseuds/ShandyCandy278
Summary: Kai posted prompts for Dreamswap and I am SO DOWN!Day 10: Justice Reigns will pay.
Comments: 42
Kudos: 150





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Calm
> 
> This is really short, but I hope you guys enjoy!

“What are you doing?”

Glowing yellow eyes opened at the question, and Dream turned to look at Ink. His wings fluttered a little.

“I’m meditating.”

“Meditating?” Ink inquired, walking in further. He plopped down next to Dream, a little confused. “Why do something like that?”

“Well,” Dream rolled his shoulders, sitting up a little taller. “It helps calm my mind, for one. Two, it’s healthy to take a break every once in a while. I figured now would be a good time as any.”

“You’re supposed to be eating dinner.”

“I had something.” Dream defended, rolling his eye lights.

“... Can I join you?”

The request was unexpected, and Dream looked long and hard at Ink before he, finally, nodded.

“Yeah, you can.”

Together, they sat there in the silence of Dream’s office. It was silent with the occasional footsteps outside, and soon Dream closed his eyes, relaxing.

If only things this calm could last for longer than they did. 

And maybe, one day, they would.


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning- Nothing really explicit happens, but Error DOES get a nightmare caused by past trauma from being rapped.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

_ It _ ** _ burned._ **

Error flinched away- jerking when he felt another hand grab at him.

“No, stop, please!” He almost begged. He couldn’t see anything- had hardly moved, yet he was breathing as though he had ran a marathon. Something wet kept on falling down his cheeks, and he sobbed harder when something came close to wipe at his eyes. “Stop, Stop, Please just stop!”

“Er-”

_ “̷͇̰͐̅͂͝M̸̨̢̛̛̛͚͓̼͕͚̱͈͂͆̇̕ỷ̶̛͈̠̳̳̱̞͉̆̇͆͊ͅr̷͍̯̼̙̬̈́̕͜i̶̡̛̓̂a̵̧̩̺̪̜̝̠͚̓̉̋̌̒̆̑̉͠͝d̷̛̠͇̞͚̥̃͋̂̓͂̽̚̚~̷̛͓̠̠͖̜̖̔͛̆̌̈́̈̂̉͛͝”̴̩̠̯̘̥̘̐̎  _ A voice cooed, and even more touching could be felt. He wanted to leave he  _ wanted to go he didn't want to be here anymore let him go let him go let him go- ̵̡̫̤̫̭̟̻͔̝̼̼̬̻̖͑͐“̵̢̛̺͉̻͕̑̈́̍͗̓͌͝͝͝ͅC̷̨̨̥͂̈́͌̇͂̓̾̿͋͛̕o̷̫͔̳̫̮̝̬̥̲̫͐̆̈́͆̈͂̂͜͠ṁ̶̛͕͚͌̽̑͆̀͠e̴̹̗͔͎̓ ̶̛̱͚̲̖͑̈͜o̷̡̺͈͖̳̲̻̺̻͈̖̝͙͐̅͊͒̊̿̒̓͛̔̉̀̒̕͘͜n̴̡̖͔͇͔̓͛̏,̴̭̭̭̱̩̮͓͓̠̅̕͝ͅ ̷̡̢̥̻̮̺͕̱͈̥̟͛͜͜M̷̲̫̮̤̤̉̄̔͐̊͗͌̕̕͝͠y̶̢̆̊̃̌͘-̷̡̨̻̝̟͓͔̙̣̪̟̇̈̾̐̎͒̓̐̏̈͘”̷̧̲̞̙̇̈́͂͊̆͒̃̂̀͛̕ _

̴̡̲̲̦̪̝͚͔̩̤̘̍̋ “-ror, wake up!” He felt like he was being shaken, and he cried harder.

“Let go!” He screamed, flinching away. “Don’t touch me, Don’t touch me, Stop! Please! It hurts! It hurts it _hurts it hurts!”_

_ "̴̡̲̯̤͙͓̖̞̞̣͈̰̩͕̖̥̝̙͍͉͉̮̺̠̼̫̳̬̏̆̒͆̎̋͒̈̎͑̽͛͂͐̉̓̽̋̇̽̍̚͜͝͝͝͝ͅͅ ̷̙͔̦̻̮̻̲̯̮̲̈́̌́͊̈͂̐̊̎̆̚Ḑ̵̨̧̛̹̼̤̙̮̣̠̰̼̥͖̭̞̥̹͙̫͙̹̻̯̭̫̱̬͖̍͆͘͜ ̵̩̥͎͍̦̟͈̗͍̘̻̾̄̾̎͂̔͆̂͒̍̅̿̉́̓̾͗o̷͓͂̎͛̈̒̃̌́̈́̿̍͛̈́́͗̀͝ ̴̧͓̘̗͓̮͉̯̯̰̳̲̦͂͊̍͗̀̄͌̂̽͌̽̔̃̇͗̔̀̎̒̍͛̆͗̔̕̕͜͜͠͠͝n̸̦͖̙̝̲̮͚̺̳̖̟̟̬̱̘̺͔̻͍͎̰̜̱̹̝̣̬͕͌̆̈́͊͛͋̎̀͑̑̊̋̄̐̍̅͊͂͑̾̉͗̕̚̚͘͜͠͝͠ͅ ̵͇͉̦͕̜̓̓̊͋͝'̵̛͎͖̺͔̻̑͊̔͊̏̉̎͋̀̾͌̽͘͘̕͠ ̷̢͉̫̺̪͙̮̦̂͌̉̆́̅͆̿͑̔̇̂̍͂̏̆̃̍͗͋̃̕t̵̢̡̨̧̨̛̙̯̭̞̙̰͈̭̼̫̭̞̜̠̆̐̎́͗̋ͅͅ ̴̛̣̟͇̳͈̭͚͇͇̄͊̏̽̀̆͑̍͋̍͐̒̌̓̊͒͐̏̑̏̎̒́̕̕̚̕͠͠͠ ̴̨͕̻̙̭̪͔̪̩̗͈͙͓̟̥̜̤̐̉̎̉̊̊̑͜ ̷̟̬̦̤͖͓̤͙̠̺̦̦͍̜̪̇̇̀͗̀̋̆͆̓̉͛̋̍ͅỳ̷̲͊͌̾̍͗̅̓̓̊̅̅̅͆̓̏̈́̇͌͊͘̕ ̴̧̡̧̬͔̣̥̹̲͓̰͔̉̏̂̀̍́̏͆͛̍͌̃̊̐̌̆͂̈́̌̽̈́̆̇̃̆͑̕̕͜͝ͅͅȯ̶̧̢̧̪̠̱͇̝̱͚̪͔͈̤̺̲͍̝̲̹̥̩̩͖͒̔͒͋͜ ̶͉͎̉̓͘͠u̸̱̰̍̇͌̿̿̓̈́̄̑̈́̂͑̀̓͒͋̅̑̚͝͝͠͝ ̵̨̡̨̛̖͖͙̻̪̟̫̫̭̟͓̙̘̟̘̝̟̻̖̻͖͑̓̈͒́́͋̈̏̆̚͜͝ ̷̢̡͚͖̺̻̱̲̩̙̰̜̖̣̝̼̫̣̰͚̗͇̰̳̻̄̄̃͊̋̓̓̈́̐̉̓̄̅̄͜͜͜͜ͅͅ ̷̡̧̢̥̤̖͕̞̜̥̤̠̯̠̠̯̟͖̱̰̰͍̺̮̥̄̂͋͛͛͐̚̕̚͝͝͝͠͝ͅͅw̴̨̹͍̮̱̌ ̶̡̢̛̛̠̹̲̖̲̻̣̈́͗̋͌͗͋̊̚a̸̢̹̲͇̲̞̱̘͚͈̤͓̤̘͉͔͚̱̙̰͔̥̖̪̦̺͉͛̏̔ ̴͓̺̲̺̫̩̰̱͚̲̦̝̗͕̠̭̳̯͇̱͓̘͎̬͔͔͉̰͙̺͙̽̂͌̈́̄͌͗͂͂̒̈́̊͑̐̽͑̊̔͗̑̄͑͛̔̓͗͠ǹ̵̡̡̛̰̳͕̗͉̩̦͓̞͓͉͓̦͚̺͇̪̂̄͂̄̈́̿̈́̎̃͌͒̇̈̆͗̋̊͋̾͊̄̓͌̃͘̕͠ ̵̨̧̫͚̣̩̻̪̩̫̗̲̺͈̹̖̰̘͈͎̲̱̣͓̟̙͕͇̐̊̊̑́̍̉̾̐̀̆͒͜͜͠͝ͅt̸̡̡̛̰̘̝͈̮͍̱͍̯̟̗͚̤̟͕͎̟͙̝̭̲͔̰̖͛͌͑͐̈̋̆̀̃̋̊͆̅͋̍̏̓̎̿̇͘̕͝ͅͅͅ ̷̩̫̞̿̈́̇͐̄̋ ̵̢̢̡͚̘͇̲̟͓̬̪̙͎͂̾̑̓͝ ̶̨̢̧̡̭̞̗̠̭̣̮̠͕̥͍̘͉̞̹̖̎̃̏̈́͋̽̇̓̐͛͝͝ͅẗ̶͉́͝ ̷̢̡͇̙͕͕̥͔̥̤̜̬̠̺͙̦͔̤̭̟͕̳̠͉͔͖̺̠̦̋͛͗͂͜͠o̴̧̡̨̰̪͕̻̼̰̗̬͉͙̹̼̙̦̞̩̎̊̅̓͆̋̿̀̋͆͘ ̶̨̺̗͖̋̾͋͗̌͋͂̑͊̄͗̔̾̅͊͘ͅͅ ̴̡̤͚̩͇̪̞̦̜̬̜͈̞̘̱͙̠̟̲̪̯̭͓͎̥̈̂͆͌̌̃̏͑̈̃̍̊͛̏̚̚͜͝͝͝ ̶̡̫̥̖͙̗̗͂̓̂̓̓̊̍̂͊͊̂͌̈̑́͂͊̂͋̓̚͝͠͝ḩ̴͙̃͆͐͆͋͒̂͌͊̓͛̆̇͂̿̈́̈́̊̀͋̍̏̂̅̚͠͝͝ ̶̢̠̜̰͙͎͍̬̮̤̈́̌̓͑͗̃͂̎̊͑̉͋̎̊͊͋̓͝͝a̸̡̢̺̼̤̣͓̬̰̬̖̰̻̫͎̞̪̭̖̋͆͌̅̂́͛͋̃͐͌̒̔̈̿͜ͅͅ ̶̫̰̙̱̬̰͕̈́́͂̂̏͐̆́̿̒̂̅̿͝͝ͅv̵̡̡̡͈͎͚̤̰̭̮̤͖̪͚̙̞̰̓͛́͜ ̴̢̠͖̦̩̜͍̜̹̲̗̏̉͑͂͑̆̚ͅe̵̡̞̹̫͚͈̹̳͉̝͇̲̟͕͎̤̦̘̹͔̰̥̼͂̅̀̄̈́̒̌̂ͅ ̴̜̪̰̮̫̹̝͇̠͙̻̜̲̣̠͍̂͐̽͌͋̓̃̆͐̆̏̆͆̈́̈̈́͐̀͐̒̎͗̍̒̊̉̒̕ ̸̢̯̼̹̮͕͕̍͋̾͒̎̀͂̈̓̉̂̆̀̿̋͒̄̿͗͘͘͠͠͠ ̶̢̨̧̭̯͓̤̠̰̠̞͕͍̯͖̿̎̀̓͆́͗̌̑̉̽̐̃̎̆̀̒̋̚͝ş̴̩̘̟̰̝͕͖̤̳̲̪͈̹̖̥̞̲͉́̏͝ ̷̡̨̧͖̣̱̖̻͖̝͍̬͍̖͍̙̥̪̟̻̠̆̿̌̄͐͜͝ͅo̵̢̦̠̙͙͚̥̰̲͓̒̉̎͛̑́̅̍̅̂̕͜ ̸̨̫̯͇̱̞̰͉̼̜̬͓̹̯̻̞͗̈́̈́͌̊̈͝͝m̸̨̨̛̝̘̘̻̠͈̤͇̠͇̳͎̦͕͎̲̣̩̗̺̹͖̎͂̓̅̃̌͊͘͘ͅͅͅͅͅ ̷̮̖͓͈͚̼̺͇̿͛͑̅͌̈́̊͊͐̇̅̔̊̎̄̇̈͌̿̌͠ȩ̶̢̳̦͈͙̱͇̘̩͎̮̼̃́̎ ̷̗̽̊͊̌͆͐̔̏̌̾̕͠͝ ̴̨͔̝̝̼̘͖̘̱̲͇̹̩̹̖͍̤͍̳͙̟̔͆̑̾̏͂̑̌̓͌̓̇̉̈́̇́̆̀̓̔͋̆̕͠͠ͅ ̷̤͔̞̹͚̉͑̓f̵̢̢̫͔͚̙̯͕̮̞̤̥͓͔̹̭̘̦̗̦̠̼̰̜̳͊̿̃͂̇̃͗̒͛̒̿͆̓̉̚͝͝ͅͅͅ ̷̡̨̦̰̤̗̥̱̙̫̝͇̮̮̣̤̝̣̳̰͚̈́̅̌̍͛̇̓͋̏͆͐̓̈́̋̎̀̍͘̚̚̚͜͝͝͠͝͝͝͠ͅͅư̸̥̗̙̭̠̂̉͊̿͐̉̄͌̅͌̐̒͑͐́̑́̐̃̌͒̓̓̒̓̉͊̕̕ ̸̝̠̃̋̇̀̀͐̋͊̓͊͂̅̿̔̊͝ņ̴̯͈͖̟̰̖̘̗̤̪̣̲͇̞̣̞̫̳͉͈͊̒͆̿̇͐̇̾̊̆̓͆̍͑̈̔̽̋͊̃̽̇̕͘͝͝͠͠ ̵̡̛̤͕̟̙̹̺̝̪͕̪̞̖̗̦̟̦̫̲̲͔͎͉̲͗̍̓̐͛̌͛̀̐̈́̑̈̊̔̿̏̚͝ͅ ̸͍̮̰͈̭̥̙̘͔͛͆͐͌̽̔͘ͅM̷̧̢̡̛̛̤̱͎̖̗̩͔̩̹̜̜̳̥̗̲̣̦̗̝̜͚̺̠̦̳͑̇̄̌̈͊̑̋̕̕͝ ̴͕̩͚̼̱͈̈̈͆̑̾͑̍͆͑̏͘ỹ̶̡̜̩̯͓̼͙̣̗̻̳͙̦̯̙̬͔̯́̋͒̀͠ ̶̧̧̲̖͚̯̩̭̗̞̬̌̇̊̂̽̆̀̆͗̿̉̈́͊̈́̉̓͋̇̇͊̅̀͘͝r̶̘͇̤̟̒̽͛̈̽̄̓͊͗̈́̿̈̑͛̂̚͠͝͠ ̸̨̧̧̧̛̛̛̛͈͔̣͕̻͇̯̟̲̗̭͙̠̙̞͙̭͎̜̺͍̄́̋̈́͆̽̆̄͂͑̅̎̍͛̎̚͝͝͝͝ì̷͎̚ ̴̨̛̯̪̪̬̹̙̲̾̌̊̂̃͗̆̈́͆́̑́̓̑̒͛̿̆͗͂̅͘͝͝͝a̷̢̨̧̢̱̰͓͇̲̬̫̙̫̬͔̪̲̖͖͚̼̋ ̷̢̡͕̤̺̻̯͔̰͈̫͔̼͓̖̻͎̤̟͔̓̽̈́̒̄̋̄͊̐̈̒͒̄̉̆̐̒͌͆̔̐̇̋͗̏̋͊̄̔͝͝ͅḑ̸̨͙̜̤̜͕̫̱͓͖͔̦̙̙̣̻̞̪̮̪̰͚̱͓̦̹̞͋ͅ ̶̡̧͙̜̙̠͇̫̦͙̥͙̳̟̽̽̍̉̓͂̾̓̅̆͝~̴̢̡͈̬̗̠͚̼̩̝͚́̓̊̓̀̿͛̂͂͂͊̈̽͆̈́̌̊̾͒̾̓̽̕̚͜͝ ̴̛͓̥̺͕̬̫̯̺̩͎͖͎̟̪̀̑͐̊̿̑̏̑͛̑̌̒͌̾͊̈́̄͑͘͘͘̚̕͝͠?̷̛̛̲͖̱̮̻̭̭̯͓̲̺̖̦͂̊̓̈́̇̌͗̐̓͒̌̀͛͊́͋͛̓́͌̚̕͝͠” _

Freezing water poured all over his body and he gasped, sitting up. 

The sounds echoed through his head, but he couldn’t make sense of them as he finally opened his eyes. It took a bit, but soon he recognized the worried gazes of his friends.

“I…” His whole body wouldn’t stop shaking, the glitches running up and down. “I-I-”

“Hey.” Nightmare leaned down, coming closer but respecting his space. “Hey, it’s okay. It was just a Night Terror. It’s okay. You’re safe.”

The words brought out another sob, and he slowly curled into a ball. His vision kept on fading in and out, but now it was out and it was staying out.

“Everythings okay.” Nightmare continued, his voice soft and low. “You’re home, remember? We’re in our home in the Omega Timeline. Nothing can get us while we’re here.”

“I’m going to go get something and put the bucket away,” He could vaguely hear Cross’ voice. “I’ll be back.”

Error did his best to listen to Nightmare, to focus on calming down his breaths, but the only thing that did was remind him of  _ something _ that happened in his dream and he started freaking out all over again.

“Error.” Nightmare continued without missing a beat. “It’s okay, I promise. I just need you to listen, okay?”

“I- It-” He shivered, sucking in a long, shuddering breath as he closed his eyes tightly. “It b- _ burns. _ ”

“What does?”

“I-I-I don’t-” He grabbed onto his sides tightly, curling in on himself even more. “I don’t-”

“It’s okay.” He could hear Nightmare shift before a slow weight settled itself on the edge of his bed- away from him. “It’s okay, I’ll just keep on talking until you feel better, okay?”

All he could manage to do was a nod.

“Alright. Did you know that according to all known laws of aviation, there’s no way a bee should be able to fly?”

He wasn’t really listening, but the tone in Nightmare’s voice was still plenty soft. He used that to help him latch on to reality, counting his breaths.

“Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground.”

1, 2, 3, 4-

“The bee, of course, flies anyway.”

5, 6, 7, 8-

“Because Bees don’t care what humans think is impossible.”

Soon enough, he could see again. He could see the pillow that was laying down next to him, the scarf that was hanging off his bed, the toys he had made for the orphans- all of it. And, slowly, Error relaxed.

It  _ was  _ okay. He  _ was  _ safe. He was with  _ his friends  _ in  _ his house  _ in the omega timeline, and  _ nothing  _ could get him here. 

“Yello, Black.”

Error blinked.

Wait… 

_ What. _

“Yellow, Black.”

Slowly, Error turned so that he could look at Nightmare, absently reaching over for his glasses. It was blurry, but he  _ swore _ that Nightmare had his crap-eating grin on his face. The glasses that he put on seconds later confirmed his guess. 

What was he doing? 

Error tried to think back to what Nightmare said earlier, but everything was fuzzy. What was he missing?

“Yellow, Black.”

_ Wait a second… _

“Yellow, Black-”

“Nightmare you _ little piece of-” _ Error lunged forward, but his friend rolled out of the way before Error could tackle him, that grin still on his face.

“Ooo, Black and ye- hey!” Nightmare laughed when Error grabbed for him again, dodging. “I’m reciting poetry here!”

“No your not!” Error growled, barely holding back his own laughter. “Get back here so that I can wipe that stupid grin off your face!”

“What?” Nightmare asked, pointing at his skull. “This one? No, I don’t think so. I like this one too much.”

“What’s going on up here?” Cross asked, entering the room with some chocolate in hand. “I was only gone for a minute or two.”

“Nightmare’s being stupid and annoying.” Error explained, pointing at Nightmare.

“Error won’t let me recite art!” Nightmare said at the same time, pointing at Error. Cross sighed, looking between the two of them.

“Did he seriously start reciting the Bee Movie Script again?”

“Whaaat?” Nightmare gasped. “Me? Never.”

“He did.”

Cross sighed and simply shook his head, pulling out one of the chocolate bars he was holding and offering it to Error. He smiled when Error reached out to grab it. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Error.”

“Yeah.” Error smiled a little, fiddling with the chocolate a bit. “I am too.”

It always bugged him, though, because there was only ever one thing he remembered from those dreams.

_ It burns. _

_ ‘Not anymore.’ _ He thought, tossing some chocolate in his mouth. _'Not anymore.'_


	3. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Depart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though I think we all know what it’s going to be like, considering it’s based around Blue, I’d still like to put a warning here that there is panic, falling, madness, etc.
> 
> Enjoy!

“I don’t like this.” A lie.

“I don’t like this either.” A truth.

The silence was strong- almost overpowering them. His soul beat harshly in his chest. The tension was so thick that you couldn’t even cut it. He looked over at them and smiled, even as the world that he once knew was torn apart. 

_ Good riddance. _

“Thank you. For warning me. For coming to save me.”

“Of course.” They answered with a smile. They showed a doorway, wearily watching the floor. “Come on, we don’t have much time.”

It was time.

He walked forward- swiftly and trying to ignore the adrenaline that rushed through his veins. He was walking toward a better future. A better life. Goodbye Papyrus, Alphys, Undyne. Goodbye people who didn't care. Hello, new world.

They entered before him, holding it open and smiling. He could see the others that they had saved on the other side- could see the light. 

He reached forward, taking another step. His smile grew even wider, and he opened his mouth-

The floor wasn’t there anymore.

He tried to yell- to scream, but silence only answered him. He tried to grasp desperately for _something_, but there was _ n o t h i n g . _

He was falling- falling down, _ down, _ ** _down_ ** \- deeper, _ deeper, _ ** _deeper_ **\- into a never-ending pit of nothing. He couldn’t feel, couldn’t see, couldn’t smell. 

His mouth hung open in an endless scream, his vision clouded with strange words and symbols. He tugged on the beanie that warmed his skull- trying to hide from the eyes he couldn’t see or feel yet he _knew _they were there like he was some kind of sick show to amuse their pleasures. He breathed for the sake of the movement between his ribs- for the sensation of _ something _ that could tell him that he was alive.

And then, suddenly, he could feel. He could feel the ground below him and could feel the shifting of the clothes on him. He could feel the way his bones rattled together in his fear. He could feel the pain- it blossomed all over him like some kind of firework that exploded over and over and over again. 

He opened his mouth and screamed- relieved for the noise that finally came from his nonexistent vocal cords even as his whole being protested against the sound. 

He screamed until he wailed and wailed until he subbed- until the pain subsided and all that was left was the tingling numbness that coursed through his entire being. He cried until he couldn’t feel his bones, his clothes, his thoughts- until he couldn’t feel the tears still falling down his cheeks and his consciousness began to fade into the numbing static.

… 

…

…

…̷̫̺̠̠͉̫͍̭̹̫͎̺̫͒̔̐̿̉̅̾̾̋̋͛͘̕̕ͅ

̴̛̛͙̟͓̠̝̝̯͕̃̋͛̑̓͌͐̓̂̈́̑͘͠

̵̛͈̫̔͌͊͌͐̊̈́̎͘͠͝…̵̛̝͓͊̀̇̐̾̾̀͘̚͠͠͠͠

̸̵̢̨̢̧̧̡̛̼͎̟͙͉̳̼̠͍̮̟̗̬̱̩̪̮̫̠̭̄̐̈́̃͗͛̈͋̈͐̋͘͘͜͝ͅ…̵̴̡̛̺̞͚̮̩̞̣̹̖̲̦̗̜̱̙̏̑͐͑̆̄͑͒̅͑̐̌̊͆̅̒̀̄͋̾͝͝

… 

…

…

When he woke up…

… 

Ë̶̖͎̜͑̕ ̸̲͚̗̍̄̈͛̌̅̎̓̋̀͝͝v̷̤̞̤͎͎̦̩͕͒̒̆͆̊̆̀̉̚ ̸̛͔̻̻̥̭̬̪̦͈͓̗͇̜̗̙̓̊̾̽̆͋̎̓̉̔͋͜͠e̷̡̨̛͎͉̼̼̮̻̜̲͑̿̈́̄̑̐͋̊̈́͊ ̸̛̜̜͙͌͒̈͑̍̓̍̿͌͆̒̌͋̃͠ṛ̴͑͊̃͂ ̸͍̆̉͑y̶̘͈͔̘͉̝͒͘͜͜ ̷̱̼̱̝̯̞̱̻͒́͐̕͝t̴̢̮̦͚̯͙͗̔̐͌̃͊̈̎̇̿͒͘̚ ̷̢͙̬̺̥̥̭̹̄͒̉̆̎͑̆h̷̢̛͔̓̚ ̴͚͖̯̠̽͊͛̈̕͠͝ì̵̮̀͊ ̶͙̓̒̾̕n̵̛̯̻̫̘̽̌͂̍͊̆̚͘ ̵̰̥͈̻͓̫͈̦͓̅̈́͛͐g̷̡̛̠͙͖̫̯̗̟̤̜̾͋̔̈̈́̓̆̀͠ ̵̧̧̑ ̴͖̬̰̟͚̻̏͊̍̌̑̀̏̚͠ͅ ̶̨̩̙̬͕̭̹̦̜̥͇̥͛̌͒̓̈̓̓͊̽̄̊̍͜͜͝ͅ ̷͖̪̯̣̘̬̠͙̹͍̱̺͚̯̽̽̓ͅ ̶͚͓͓̈́̔̂͒̓̿̓̚͠͝Ẁ̴̧̧̱̜̗̙̳̫̩̭͍̣̮̳̹̳̈̋͂̉̈ ̶̡̡̯̘̖̟̤̬̥̞͑̌̑͑̆͂̅̈̈́̀̄͒̈́͘̚͝ȃ̷̛̘̎̍̿̚͝ ̴̺̖͉̓̓̇̍̊͒̇̆͝ş̸̛̛̜̦̯͓̊͂́̆̂̓̈́̅̕̕͠ ̷̛͙͆̀̾̊̿̽̄̽͗ ̷̧̢̱̩̣͕̗̜͕̹̯̱̩̬̭̕ ̴̨̠̳̩̞͔͍̬̬̫̜̻̯̝͕̆͛̃ ̷̧̛͉͍̝̟̟͖̠̱̭̹͚̠̦͂̿͂̃̅̍̒͒̾̃̈́̚ ̴̧̭̫͚͉̪̰̱̩̟̖͚̝̠̉̂͐͆̓̐͆̂̀͛̅̌͒̈͛͜͝Ẅ̴̢̡͚̝̪̣͇͍̫̜̫̯̣͓̻̍͌̍̎̉̒͘͠ ̶̧̻̳͇̰̼̾̈́͆͌h̶̡̢̳̻̗̖̟͕͎̺͖͐̎̾͊̃̃͒͘͘͝͝͝͠ ̷̧̧̨̛̳̞̱̦̜̺͎̣̜̠̱̙̲̔͌̆̅͆̽͂̌́͂͌̕͝͝i̶̬̽͠ ̶͉̩͙͙̗̫̹̮̘̤͕̜͆̾͗́̅̔̿͝ͅṫ̴̢̹̩̹̱̳̟̯̥̗͔͈̍̏ ̷̡̼̰̅̈́̍͛͒̐͝è̷̛̼̥͇͓̫̙͓̬̖̯̯̈́̔͊̑͊͘͠ͅ ̷̫̖̺̱͈̜̮̍̾͑͆̈́̐̽͝.̴̘͚͖̮̖̄̈́̌


	4. Day 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Return

He didn’t know how long it had been, he realized. 

How long it had been since everything had started. 

He had just needed a small break to actually wrap his head around the changes, but he never once thought that he’d end up back here.**  
**

He reached a hand up and placed it against the bark of the dead tree- the leaves long gone. It was a miracle it was even still standing. The people in the town didn’t even know who he was, only having heard legends of what this had once stood for.

Yellow eyes softened as he gently brushed his fingers against it, thinking back to a time where it was alive and well. 

Back to when it had just been him and Dream- to where he had stood against the abuse of the founders of this very village.

“Hey.” He whispered- mostly to himself, but it was a habit when Dream and Kevin were your only real friends in the now-distant past. In the times where Dream was too busy and Kevin was in one of his moods, he had found that the tree was a very good listener. “Sorry. Things… things are really messed up, aren’t they?” He laughed, his mind remembering the last time he had seen it.

_(“Dream!” Nightmare yelled, watching in horror as his brother raised another Golden Apple to his mouth to eat it. Golden wings had already sprouted from his back. “What are you doing?!”)_

Nostalgically, Nightmare walked around to the side of the tree that he’d normally sit on- where the negative apples had once grown. He observed the old tree with hesitance before reaching a hand up to the branches above him. He climbed up the tree like it was second nature- perhaps it was, even after so many years had passed. He always spent more time around the tree outside of their home.

_(“What am I doing?” Dream asked, looking down at his brother. “I’m going to save everyone. You guard something that only brings pain and misery to everyone, Nightmare.” He took a bite and swallowed, and something akin to shivers ran down his spine. “I’m going to end it.”)_

Settling himself on top of the Branch that he vaguely remembered was his favorite, Nightmare carefully leaned back and placed his arms behind his head, staring up and into the slightly-cloudy sky.

It was strange. 

To return to the place of his origin after so long. 

To return after everything that happened.

It was strange to feel like this, in all honesty. The whole ‘Positive Spirit’ thing was still new to him. The normal bitterness that he had felt for who-knew how long was replaced with warmth, and he wasn’t being chased down by JR anymore.

He wondered how Dream felt about this. No doubt his memories were different than Nightmare’s, but he had been planning on it for a while, it seemed. He knew exactly what was going on, and Nightmare…

_(“Dream.” The other skeleton didn’t listen, and he sighed. “If this really is it… don’t you dare screw it up, you hear me?”_

_“What?” Dream turned around to look at him._

_“Go create your ideal multiverse or whatever.” Nightmare continued, waving his fingers around. “I will be PISSED if this doesn’t mean anything, and I think it’s easy to see why. If you fail I swear to the Heavens above that I will haunt you till the end of your days and drag you down with me.”)_

Nightmare had thought he was going to die.

_(He watched as Dream paused, observing him for a moment. Something flashed in those glowing yellow eyes before he smiled, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what._

_“I assure you,” He said, lifting his hand over a button, ready to push. “That will not be necessary.”_

_“Sweet Dreams, dear brother.”)_

_‘Sweet Dreams indeed.’_ Nightmare thought, continuing to stare vacantly at the sky he had once known so well.

After what had to have been an hour or two, Nightmare sighed. He climbed back down the tree carefully, muttering a soft goodbye.

He had returned, but now it was time to move on. He had always used his experiences to better himself- to make him stronger, wiser, and smarter, no matter what people joked about. 

This would be no different.

It was time to go on with his new life- to once again leave another lifetime of experiences behind him just as he had all those years ago when Dream had picked the apples.

And perhaps, he would return once more.

Only time would tell.


	5. Days 5&6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 1: Chained
> 
> Prompt 2: Liberate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enough sad stuff, let's have some fun! :D

Well, this definitely wasn’t what he had in mind, but it worked.**  
**

“Keep moving.” One of the guards huffed, pushing his shoulder. Nightmare caught himself, glaring at the guard. It was a little hard to see him though, considering that the sun was setting behind him.

“I-” Cross gave him a little nudge, and he turned to look at his friend.

Right. They needed to play their cards right. Otherwise, the plan would be a total bust. He huffed and kept moving, fiddling with the handcuffs around his hands more out of boredom than necessity.

Why they had even decided to go through with this prank when it would require them being captured, he didn’t know. 

At least Error would be able to get them out of here.

It didn’t take long until they were placed in their separate cells and locked behind the door. The few others that were down here also didn’t bother to look up. Nightmare waited until the guards had left and one of them had started to patrol the hallway before walking over to the small window in the wall that showed him Cross’ cell.

“Did they find them?” He whispered.

“No, I still have them in my inventory.” He smirked. “You?”

“Definitely.” He nodded. 

“Remember- we have to wait until Night. We need to do it while they’re asleep.”

“I know, I know.” Cross huffed, folding his arms a bit. The chains didn’t really do much to help him with that. They looked away from each other when the Guard passed by their cell again, and then looked back at each other after a moment.

“How do you think Dream is going to react?” Cross asked.

“Pissed.” Nightmare smirked. “Duh.”

They continued to talk to each other in hushed whispers as the hours flew by. Soon enough, it was two o’clock in the morning. Even Dream was asleep by now.

_Perfect._

They heard some fighting going on in the hall, and blue strings shot out outside of their cells. Nightmare took the hint and reached into his shoe, grabbing his lock pick. He quickly used them to unlock the chains around his hands. Once they were unlocked he handed the pick to Cross and stuffed the handcuffs into his back pocket. Cross had just finished his own and was handing back the lock pick when Error approached their cells with the keys dangling off of his Strings.

“We’re hitting up Ink first, right?” He asked, releasing them from confinement.

“Yeah- Dream needs to be last. We run less of a chance of not doing any damage if we target Ink.” Nightmare straightened his clothes a bit, smirking. He pulled out a roll of toilet paper from his inventory, tossing it up in the air and catching it. “Let’s do this thing.”

* * *

The next morning, Ink stomped over to Dream’s room, his eye socket twitching. Toilet Paper hung off of him and trailed behind him, but he didn’t even bother trying to remove the items from himself. In his hands was a stuffed animal that was handcuffed onto his arm, holding hearts with the words ‘screw you’ on it.

When he had woken up, his whole room had been TP’d- including himself. To the bed.

“Dream!” He yelled, pounding on his boss’ door. “We need to talk!”

“Not right now, Ink.” Dream grunted, and Ink wasn’t phased when he heard some objects crashing in his room.

“I’m coming in.”

“Woah, wait, Ink-” Ink threw open the door and stepped in, but some kind of mechanism went off. A bucket of water from above tipped over and fell on him just as he walked into even more toilet paper, which caused him to trip and fall onto the floor.

“Fudgin’ crap!” He swore, standing up. At seeing Dream’s room in an identical state to his own, he looked over at Dream who actually bothered to take the rest of the toilet paper off of himself.

“So, it happened to you too?” He asked, noticing that Dream was also handcuffed to a stuffed animal that looked just like Ink’s. Looking closer, it said ‘sucks to be you ~NM’.

“When I get my hands on Nightmare, he’ll be so dead.” Dream growled, tugging at the multiple layers wrapped around him. “I doubt he’s still in the prison.”

“Yup, he managed to escape sometime last night with Cross and Error.” Ink confirmed- he had been told that morning on his way to his boss’ bedroom.

Revenge was going to have to wait, then. It would be a while before they found Nightmare again.


	6. Day 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Whisper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for some say Dream-boy. :3

_(“Dream.” A voice whispered, rousing him from slumber. He mumbled something incoherent, and when nothing spoke right away, he went back to sleep._

_“Dream, wake up.”_

_He slept too soon, then._

_“Ngh… Nightmare?” He asked, sleepily rubbing his eye sockets as he looked up at Nightmare, who was leaning over him with an excited smile on his face. “What are you doing? The sun’s not even up yet.”)_

He had been walking through the streets of the towns close to JR’s headquarters when he heard it.

It started with a simple exercise and tune-up- loud enough to be heard over the hustle and bustle of the street to be heard, but soft and tender enough that it felt like a mere whisper.

_(“Yeah, but I just figured something out!” His smile grew a little wider. “You know how some of the villagers will sing sad songs?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“And how I stole a music book from them?”_

_“Ugh, don’t remind me.”_

_“Well-” He sat down on the bed as Dream sat up, waving his bow around and violin already in hand. Dream should have known- Nightmare had been obsessed with figuring out how to play the instrument ever since he had gotten it. “I just figured out how to play one of those songs on my violin! Well, I think. I want your opinion on it. Can I play for you?”_

_Dream smiled, and for a moment it didn’t matter that Nightmare had woken him up in the dead of night._

_“Of course.”)_

Once the scales stopped, there was a pause, and then a beautifully strong yet soft and sad melody began to play. It felt so familiar that Dream couldn’t help but walk towards it, hypnotized, his heart both pounding in anticipation and aching with familiarity. 

It took a few painstakingly long seconds before he realized that the noise was coming through an open window from the back of an orphanage. The kids were gathered around the person playing- their back turned to Dream and head hidden with a hoodie.

Dream couldn’t care less, and he leaned against the wall next to the window to listen.

_(“Are you practicing again?”_

_“Yeah.” Nightmare smiled, flipping through the book that he had been working through for the past month. It had been a rare gift to Nightmare after one of the elderly women had heard him play while walking past their house one day, along with some rosin and polish for the instrument. He treated the items with the best of care and had even given her a thank you gift. Dream smiled at the thought, placing down some food._

_“Do you think you’re going to write your own songs one day?” He asked, washing off the fruits and vegetables._

_“… Do you think I should?”_

_“Nightmare, at this point, you sound better than anyone ever could in our Village. You’ve been practicing for hours for weeks on end, studying and learning as much as you can. I know you can, but it doesn’t matter what I think you should do, it matters on what you want to do.”_

_“Well…” Nightmare paused, smiling sheepishly. “I… did mess around with something for a bit earlier today. It’s nowhere near as good as the songs I’ve been playing from this book, though.”_

_“Can I hear?”_

_“I don’t know, can you?”_

_“You know what I meant.” Dream rolled his eyes, stopping what he was doing and giving Nightmare his full attention. Nightmare nodded, rolling his shoulders._

_“Yeah, just… give me a bit.”)_

Dream closed his eyes as he listened to the melancholy song he couldn’t recognize, speaking of ancient stories that would end with tragedy and heartache. He listened as the Violinist used his violin to dance with the sounds of pain and hope- of bittersweet triumph and relief. He listened as they steadily crescendoed, shifting up the strings and suddenly growing quiet. As they smoothly transitioned from using their bow to their fingers and back, the vibrato smooth and fluid. 

He could just picture Nightmare standing before him- eyes closed as he moved his arms and upper body passionately with the melody as though the music was coming from within the very core of his being. 

He didn’t know how long he stood there, lost in the memories of times past- but the music ended quicker than he’d like. It was on soft notes, repeating the beginning of the song with an even slower tempo than before, the pressure on the bow lifting as it slowly grew quieter and quieter until the last note was whispered into the air- like a promise.

Dream didn’t bother to wipe the tears that fell down his face as he walked away while the children applauded the performer.

_“Can I hear?”_

Yes, was the answer then. Nightmare always let him listen to his pieces.

_“Can I hear?”_

No, the answer was now- for they didn’t live together anymore. They weren’t even on speaking terms, because when he decided he was going to do something, he did it. And he had decided that he needed to kill Nightmare in order to stop the Negativity.

The song and memories haunted him even in sleep, the voice of his brother whispering into his ear in a way that drained him.

_“Can you?”_

Not anymore.


	7. Day 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Scream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When searching for inspiration for this, I should NOT have found this post. https://onebizarrekai.tumblr.com/post/165603012194/aaaaa-i-hope-you-dont-mind-but-now-im-super
> 
> Too late now tho.
> 
> Oh well, I hope you guys enjoy!

He was bored.**  
**

Granted, Fresh had been bored for ages- and it didn’t help if it was hard to survive because JR kept on getting in his way.

There were very few things that surprised him now, and frankly, he didn’t care for any of the drama that would go on.

But then, one day, he heard Blue (his ‘partner’ in business, but they were more like best buds) mention how Nightmare and Dream were living together now.

“Woah, what?” He asked, staring at the other skeleton from under his rad glasses. “Night-bro and Dream-boy live together now? I thought them sinners all up’n hated each other, yo.”

“Mm.” Blue seemed a little miffed about it as he looked over some papers. “Yeah, ever since Dream did something with Nightmare’s spirit they’ve stopped hunting each other down, but this is a more recent development. Actually, Cross and Error are living there too.”

… Huh.

He wouldn’t mind seeing all of that up-close. Especially if Blue wasn’t all that happy about it.

Maybe later, though- he was in the middle of hanging out with Blue, even if Blue was working.

* * *

Fresh knew that this was probably a bad choice, but what other time would there be to see all of them in one spot?

He grinned, waiting for them all to almost take the selfie before he poofed just between Nightmare and Cross, his arms wrapping around their shoulders and photobombing the picture just in time.

_“Wiggidy what’s up, my radical sinners?!”_

The reaction was instant.

Nightmare and Cross sprung away from him like they had been shocked, only needing to glance at him before screaming and running away after Error, who was already screaming and had run away the exact moment Fresh had appeared. In fact, Error’s screams were even _louder _now.

Fresh swiftly dodged a swing from Dream’s sword as Ink realized what happened and screamed too, running in the opposite direction of Nightmare, Cross, and Error.

“Hey, come on, brosef- that ain’t cool.”

“Neither was your photobomb you vile thing.” Dream hissed, sword poised and ready for another attack. Fresh dodged that one too, snatching the camera from where it had been propped up. He waved it around.

“Aww, come on- those two cuddly sinners had it comin’ for them-”

“Leave or I will-”

“Okay, okay, I can take a hint.” He clicked while finger-gunning, jumping backward just before he teleported. “See ya on the flip side, broski!”

* * *

“So?” Blue asked once Fresh met up with him again later that day. Fresh wasn’t looking at him, his focus instead on the camera in his hands. That wasn’t normal. “How was your day, frenchmen?”

“Bro, everyone hates me.”

“Aww, that’s not true!” Blue tilted his head, confused. “Why would you say that?”

“‘Cause they all up ’n screamed an’ ran away the moment I photobombed them.”

“Them?” An amused smile grew on Blue’s face. “Them who?”

“Yo, Dream an’ Nightmare an’ all their friends, yo!” Fresh showed Blue what he was looking at- a picture of everyone posed for some kind of group photo, but with Fresh in the very center and a blur where Error must have been standing.

Their faces were priceless.

“PFFT-” Instantly, Blue was howling with laughter- even falling to the floor as he developed a stitch. “You- You photobombed them?!”

“Yeah, it was fun, but they certainly ain’t.” Fresh huffed.

“Oh, I wish I had been there!” He gave Fresh the camera back. “I would have loved to see that in person!”

“Technically speakin’, ya still can.”

“…”

“…”

“… Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Blue, my especially sinful lil’ broski, I’m always thinkin’ what you’re thinkin’.”

(And that’s how Fresh and Blue terrorized everyone at JR the next day, which just happened to be April Fools. The poor suckers.)


	8. Day 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt- Hate

Hate.

It was such a strong word, despite being only four letters long. Small yet fierce- describing feelings of resentment and bile, of displeasure and spite.

He heard it often.

He assumed it came with the job. Not everyone would appreciate what he and Dream had been doing, protecting the tree and all. Not everyone would understand why they would- why the power was not shared. 

Not everyone could see  _ them _ either.

Well, it was more of a  _ him _ thing. 

No one really saw  _ him, _ only what they wanted to see. Which… 

_ “Get lost!” _

_ “You’re not wanted!” _

_ “We hate you!” _

_ “Die!” _

Weren’t very good things.

All kinds of insults were thrown at him whenever he went out alone. It didn't matter what else he did. It was rare to get a compliment or a thank you unless it was directed at both of them (or if one of the elderly women decided to be nice).

Which was why he had decided to stop fighting it.

Dream, he knew, wasn’t all that happy about how he had decided to handle this, but you know what? This was probably the most fun he had had in ages. It didn't matter what other people thought- they didn't know him. They didn't even try to get to know him. Why should he care if they weren’t putting in the effort?

He was hated, but as long as he kept his head held high and believed in himself, he would be okay.

Nightmare didn't need any of them, and he’d prove it.

One way or another.

After all, hate could only hurt if you let it.


	9. Day 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Character Death. Nothing described, but they did die.

Love was always a fickle thing.

It could hurt, make people sick, make them cry. It could make them do all kinds of horrible things in the name of it- doing the same to others that had been done to them. Love could tear a person apart- shatter their very being until the pain became unbearable. It could play them like a fool and manipulate them to do things that they would have never done previously.

Yet, it could also heal.

It could mend the tatters of the soul and rekindle lost fires- could spread warmth in even the darkest and coldest of places. Love could give a person the ability to fly amongst the clouds, to do grand acts for those that they loved to show their appreciation. It could give someone energy and passion where they had previously lacked, the ability to comfort someone with words that they could only give if they so loved the person they were saying them too.

They had all been played for fools by love. Willingly, too.

And he wasn’t talking about romantic love, because love had never been just for couples and young to dream of. Love was like that to all kinds of love, whether it was family, friends, or lovers.

As he sat there, in the grass that he slowly picked at with Kevin by his side, he couldn’t help but let a few tears fall.

A fool he was, indeed.

For he loved his friends.

And he had been too late.

He squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his arms around his midsection. He choked on the sobs that begged to come out, but he stubbornly forced them down regardless. His friend watched from a small ways away, the grief just as hard for them yet all their tears already spent.

“Don’t worry.” He whispered to the stone of his beloved, his soul aching with anger, bile, and resentment- as well as pain and sadness. He rubbed the tears off of his face as he stood up, his hand caressing the tombstone gently. “We’ll make sure they pay.”

Something tugged on his soul as he turned around, asking for him to stay. To not do this. He could imagine their hand on his shoulder, telling him to stop- that it was suicide.

They didn't want him to do this.

But he didn't care.

Because he was a fool.

And fools, he recalled, often did miraculously terrible things for the people they love, no matter what kind of love that was.

Justice Reigns would  _ pay _ for taking Cross’ life.

Nightmare would make sure of that.


End file.
